


Second Chances

by yansurnummu



Series: The Blood of the Coven [2]
Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff, Lucien lives AU, M/M, brief mentions of death/torture, first person POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-28
Updated: 2016-12-28
Packaged: 2018-09-12 21:16:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9091132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yansurnummu/pseuds/yansurnummu
Summary: Lucien was lucky to have him.An AU in which Anthelion reaches Applewatch before the Black Hand.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Alternatively titled, "The AU We All Deserve", another ending for this: http://archiveofourown.org/works/8507851

I paced about the farm house, clearing dust from surfaces as I did so. The homestead had been vacant for years, after I sent Anthelion to pay the late owner a visit. For now, it was as good a safe house as any. I had a nagging feeling of anxiety, but I knew there was little I could do at this point. I had no choice but to wait for Anthelion to return from Anvil with his findings.

For the first time, however, I found myself worrying about his safety. Surely the remnants of the Black Hand wouldn't pursue him, would they? They believed me to be the traitor, after all. But, if they believed they would have an easier time hunting him down…

I stopped pacing with a growl, realizing I had been biting my nails. They wouldn't hurt him. He would be fine.

I cracked a small smile. _Of_ _course_ he would be fine. Even if they found him, they _couldn't_ take him down. He had become far more dangerous than I ever imagined he would. I grinned to myself, unable to help but feel a pang of pride. Oh, how _beautiful_ my beloved little killer had become.

The door swung open, revealing a cold gust of wind and a black-cloaked figure, and I sighed in relief. Anthelion shut the door behind him, pulling back his hood and mask. He had become paler as the seasons neared the end of their cycle, I noticed, though his face still held its deep russet colour. I moved towards him, and he reached for me, a look of genuine worry on his freckled face. His arms wrapped tightly around me and his head fell against my chest.

“I'm so glad you're safe,” his hoarse voice was muffled in my shirt. I combed my fingers through his coal-black hair, still cold and damp from the weather outside. He smelled of winter air and tobacco, and I couldn’t help how my grip on him tightened, savouring the feeling of having him near once more.

“Likewise,” I muttered, my lips pressed against the top of his head. I couldn’t describe how relieved I was to see him again, and I found myself at a loss for words as I held him.

“Lucien,” he breathed in deeply before pulling away, though I could feel his reluctance at the parting. “I’ve found the traitor,”

 

I skimmed over the musty pages of the leather-bound book he handed me.

_“Bellamont,”_

 

* * *

 

 

The setting sun was visible through the cracks in the boarded-up windows by the time the door opened once more. Anthelion was on his feet in an instant, hand on the hilt of his dagger, as the four figures entered the house.

“Lachance,” Arquen addressed me, staring past Anthelion. I hesitated, eyes flickering between the mer with his back to me, and the calculating stares of the other assassins. “And you must be Anthelion. I've heard so much about you,” she smiled. “I'll admit, I'm disappointed to find you on _his_ side of the conflict,” her gold eyes narrowed in my direction.

“I think you'll find that my Speaker has commit no treachery,” he snapped, and Arquen’s eyebrows raised in something akin to amusement. “On the contrary, the traitor is amongst _you_ ,”

“Nonsense!” Belisarius hissed, while Arquen and Banus exchanged disbelieving looks. Anthelion picked the journal off the table, taking a cautious step towards Arquen with an outstretched arm. Her eyes bore into him, but she took it from him when he didn't back down. Banus read over her shoulder as well as he could with their difference in height. I watched Mathieu, who looked over to me and held my gaze. I could see him shaking. He flinched when Arquen threw the journal onto the stone floor.

“You!” she growled, turning towards him, though it was Banus who acted first. “I should have known!”

“He's made fools of us!” Banus spat, blade pressing against the man's throat.

 

* * *

 

 

I didn't participate in Mathieu’s torture. The man's betrayal troubled me far too much. There had been a time when I called him my friend, yet all this time he had planned my death. I watched on as my colleagues strung up his corpse. Anthelion paid them little mind, instead tending to a pot of something over the hearth.

“Don't worry, it's only rabbit,” he laughed when I approached him. I slid my arms around his narrow waist, resting my head against his shoulder.

“Reassuring,” I chuckled.

“You aren't worried what they'll think of us?” he said softly as I watched him cook.

“I doubt they've noticed. Believe me, they get very… enthusiastic about torture,” he laughed breathily, and I smiled at the sound. I kissed his shoulder before moving away, turning my attention towards the three assassins on the opposite end of the house. “Besides, Arquen and Banus have been fucking for years,” I muttered just loud enough for him to hear and he shot me a look of shocked amusement.

 

When my colleagues became bored with further mangling the traitor's corpse, they tossed it out into the snowbanks at the request of Anthelion. _It really is an unsightly thing to have around during dinner,_ he argued. And since he was the one to do all the cooking, they were inclined to heed him. “I do hope we can mend our relationship, Lachance,” Arquen spoke while the other three chatted by the hearth.

“I don't blame any of you. I likely would have done the same in your position,” she gave me an apologetic smile.

“Even so, I feel I should apologize,”

“Thank you,” my attention fell back on Anthelion, somehow. Arquen noticed.

“You know, felling half of our numbers, I thought he'd be taller,” she commented, and I couldn't help but snort out a laugh.

“I wouldn't recommend saying _that_ to his face,”

“Oh, no,” she chuckled, shaking her head. “That _look_ in his eyes… you're very lucky to have him under you,”

“I am, aren't I?” I sighed wistfully. The mer in question laughed at something Belisarius said.

 

* * *

 

 

The Night Mother named Arquen her new Listener.

Eventually, we decided to set up in Anvil until we could rebuild the Black Hand. The spirits of Benirus Manor didn't seem to mind our presence.

 

* * *

 

 

Seemingly endless storms ravaged the Gold Coast this time of year. Anthelion came home drenched, even through his leather cloak.

“You needn't coddle me,” he laughed as I sat him in front of the fireplace with a blanket and a cup of hot tea.

“Perhaps,” I grinned, settling next to him. “But perhaps I want to,” he held my gaze for a while, worrying his bottom lip between sharp teeth. His face had a red flush to it; from the cold rain, or the affection, I couldn't say. I found myself lost in his wide, abyssal eyes, beautiful as the depths of the Void itself.

“I love you, Lucien,” the deep, rough tone of his voice drew me in, but it was those words that made my heart flutter. I leaned in before I really knew what I was doing, pressing my lips to his. It was far softer and slower than anything we'd shared in the past. His lips were cold and chapped, but all that mattered was that they were _his._

“I love you, too,” I whispered, and his breath was warm on my skin when he sighed in relief. I pulled him close, wrapping the blanket around the both of us.

Truly, I was very lucky to have him.


End file.
